


something good

by i_feel_electric



Category: Big Bang (Band), GTOP (Band), K-pop
Genre: Drama, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_feel_electric/pseuds/i_feel_electric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"seunghyun liked the redhead the minute he saw him walk in the door, that flash of soft blood orange catching his attention as the other boy tried to hide behind one of his friends. tried to blend in, melt into the scenery, remain unseen."</p><p>seunghyun and jiyong meet at a party. (aka what happens when you watch the let's not fall in love mv too many times)</p>
            </blockquote>





	something good

  
  


i. seunghyun liked the redhead the minute he saw him walk in the door, that flash of soft blood orange catching his attention as the other boy tried to hide behind one of his friends. tried to blend in, melt into the scenery, remain unseen. he’d sipped his drink and disengaged from whatever conversation he was supposed to be participating in to watch. to notice. let his focus drift and gather small details, even though he shouldn’t have. like the dark ink that spilled out from under his t-shirt. the rings on his fingers, tight denim hugging narrow hips. pretty brown eyes that seemed as expressive as his body language.

 

though seunghyun had wondered why red, if the guy was going to stand there with his shoulders hunched and pretend he didn’t exist. granted, chaerin was always a lot to handle whenever she played hostess, and her lively gestures as she ushered the newcomers further into the apartment had almost made him laugh.

 

the redhead trailed behind the rest of them, arms folded over his chest, always keeping to the periphery. seunghyun’s gaze followed him across the room, riveted, and he’d exhaled this huge sigh. because there had been something absurdly charming about the shy curve of his mouth when he gave chaerin a hug and pecked her on the cheek in greeting.

 

two glasses of liquid courage later, seunghyun learns his name is jiyong. one of chaerin’s coworkers. twenty-six, typographer and designer, shares an apartment with his older sister and two arrogant cats. he’s fascinated in a really horrible way, the kind of way that has him turned sideways on the couch and forgetting that there are other people in the room. or that there even is a room--something far too intimate in the cadence of jiyong’s voice and the angle of his body when he shifts closer.

 

“i feel like i’m being interviewed,” jiyong admits, laughing slightly while picking at the label on his beer.

 

seunghyun smiles. he’d feel bad if he wasn’t so curious. dangerously so. but something won’t let him stop.

 

“you’re interesting.”

 

he receives a quiet scoff in answer, jiyong shaking his head, attention devoted to the bottle in his lap.

 

“that’s a lie, but you’re sweet for pretending.”

 

“it’s not a lie,” seunghyun chuckles.

 

jiyong just hums wryly and changes the subject. “how do you know chaerin?”

 

draining his glass, seunghyun studies jiyong’s profile; wishes he would look at him.

 

“we went to school together.”

 

jiyong’s lips quirk. “that must’ve been a trip.”

 

seunghyun laughs. “i don’t remember a lot of it, let’s just put it that way,” he murmurs.

 

finally, those pretty eyes lift and slide to the right, traveling up along his face before they meet his. seunghyun sort of hates how easily his body reacts--a faint, prickling heat spreading through him, heartbeat stuttering in his chest. jiyong tilts his head back against the cushions and glances away to grin at the ceiling.

 

“and what do you do, seunghyun?”

 

he tells himself not to stare at the long line of jiyong’s neck. that’s what he does.

 

“struggle to be an adult,” seunghyun offers absently, gaze straying to jean clad thighs when they shift over the couch, spreading wider.

 

jiyong releases an amused snort. “seriously.”

 

“i’m a walking cliche, trust me.” he looks up, finds an arched eyebrow and the swell of jiyong’s bottom lip caught between white teeth.

 

“that doesn’t make me wanna know any less.”

 

seunghyun sighs and smiles, pushing a hand through his hair. he’s played this game too many times with too many people to actually care what most of them think. it’s just, jiyong is staring at him with this weird glimmer in his eye that seunghyun knows all too well, and for whatever reason, he wants it to be different here. wants jiyong not to think he’s a joke. even if he is.

 

leaning over, he sets his glass down on the table at his feet, falling back onto the couch and inadvertently bringing their shoulders flush. he doesn’t move and neither does jiyong. seunghyun inhales, fingers fumbling with the hem of his shirtsleeve.

 

“i work at a coffee shop and play guitar in a band, it doesn’t get more formulaic than that,” he mutters.

 

“so why do it?” jiyong prods gently.

 

“because it’s fun.” seunghyun shrugs, couch gravity drawing them into each other with the movement, and he turns his head. “why are you a typographer?”

 

jiyong can only maintain eye-contact for a few seconds before ducking his head, both hands twisting the beer bottle between his legs.

 

“because manipulating people is more entertaining than i thought it would be.”

 

surprised and delighted laughter rolls out of him, hand clutching at his stomach. “oh, i like you,” he wheezes.

 

a blush stains his cheeks and jiyong nudges into seunghyun--attention still trained on his hands, but that smile taking up at least half of his face. “you’re not so bad yourself.”

 

their amusement fades in stages and the silence that follows isn’t as awkward as it should be. because they don’t really know each other, but there were several moments when he forgot that was the case. which makes seunghyun decide that he’s probably in trouble. especially after jiyong shoots him a sly glance and they both start giggling all over again.

 

jiyong covers his mouth with the back of his hand, tries to breathe. “i don’t even know what we’re laughing at.”

 

“does it matter?” seunghyun asks.

 

this time, jiyong catches his eye and doesn’t shy away, lips twitching uncontrollably.

 

“no.”

 

seunghyun grins and an undeniable warmth floods through him from head to toe.

  
  
  


ii. almost seamlessly, jiyong and his friends slot into their lives as if they’d always been there. it doesn’t even take that long. a handful of weeks, at best. some of them even start coming to his shows and seunghyun muses on the alchemy of human relationships--wonders what it is that makes people gravitate towards each other and merge, like some crazy transformers shit.

 

one night, he’s helping daesung load his drum kit into their van when ryan appears in all his towering, bearded glory to invite them over. seunghyun doesn’t even remember seeing him in the crowd, but he smiles and says yes and he doesn’t question it. because jiyong will probably be there and he hasn’t been able to keep the boy from cycling around in his head since the first night they met. not that he doesn’t like ryan and the others. he does. but seunghyun is more than a little hung up and he’s still trying to figure out why.

 

so, he goes.

 

the apartment is loud with voices and music when he arrives, standing outside the door by himself because dae and charlie were too wiped for partying. a nervous flutter swoops inside his chest. he slides a hand into his sweaty hair and sighs. seunghyun knocks before he can start to examine the exact reasons why he’s here.

 

ryan’s roommate jake lets him in, alcohol and cigarette smoke thick in the air. a chorus of cheers fill the kitchen when he rounds the corner from the hallway, making him laugh, but he’s already distracted by the now familiar pair of brown eyes staring at him from across the room. seunghyun registers being slapped on the back--hears the _hey, man_ ’s and the _what’s up_ ’s and manages to return a couple handshakes convincingly enough. it’s just that jiyong’s smile usually does this thing where it monopolizes most of the space in his brain.

 

“someone get this man a drink!” ryan calls, the boom of his voice snapping him out of it.

 

then there’s a glass in his hand and he’s being sucked into the group of people clustered around the island counter. soft red catches his attention; a surge of warmth hitting him in the next instant.

 

“hi.”

 

seunghyun peers down at jiyong, huffing in amusement, because he thought he was ready for this, except now he doesn’t know what to say. not when jiyong is suddenly so tangible and he can smell the cologne that clings to his skin.

 

“hi,” seunghyun responds quietly.

 

mouth twitching into a grin, he laughs again, sipping his drink. the alcohol burns through him and it only adds to the heat eating him up.

 

“how was the gig?” jiyong asks, gaze constant even as he snags a cigarette from the pack on the counter, lighting it.

 

he clears his throat, doesn’t fixate. “good,” he answers and pushes damp bangs off of his forehead. “i’m pretty gross, though.”

 

the smile on jiyong’s face melts into a smirk, eyes dancing as they deliberately look him over. seunghyun hasn’t really adjusted to the fact that his initial case of shyness has become less consistent. to the point of being non-existent.

 

“yeah, a little.”

 

snorting, he reaches out to pluck the cigarette from between tattooed fingers--lets his linger briefly before taking a drag.

 

“thanks.”

 

jiyong’s lips spread wide, vibrant strands of red falling into his eyes as he tilts his head. “no problem,” he murmurs.

 

conversation comes easy. seunghyun can bullshit like a champ, but he doesn’t have to do that here, and it’s refreshing. or maybe it’s just that jiyong keeps swaying into him and giggling brightly behind his hand and he’s too fucked to care. the alcohol in his system makes him forget why this is a problem.

 

“you know, what you do is sorta messed up,” seunghyun states, lighting up another cigarette.

 

the plastic tray in front of them is packed with ash and crumpled filters, the only proof of time passing. he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, too invested in every single word spilling from jiyong’s mouth, regardless of the subject.

 

“it’s not messed up, it’s just how it is,” jiyong laughs, hip cocked against the counter as his attention flits back and forth from seunghyun to ryan standing on the other side.

 

they’ve been discussing _art_. something he’d normally feel more ridiculous about if he was with anyone else.

 

“text is a language,” jiyong continues, expression serious, but his eyes are luminous and seunghyun can’t look away. “not a day goes by that you don’t interact with it, and how that text looks is going to influence how you feel about whatever it’s associated with. whether you want it to or not.”

 

“but you’re intentionally fucking with people’s perceptions. and making money off of it,” ryan argues.

 

jiyong’s laughter sounds more defeated now, posture wilting as he sighs. “is there a reason you’re both ganging up on me?”

 

seunghyun leans in, curling an arm around his shoulders and drawing him closer on impulse. the pleased smile that creeps onto jiyong’s face makes his heart thump faster. “ignore this asshole,” he murmurs, pointing at ryan. “keep talking.”

 

chuckling, jiyong humors him. “i don’t really think typography and design is that evil,” he explains, fingers lifting to steal the cigarette from seunghyun this time. “it’s just fascinating, from a psychological standpoint, how easily our decisions are informed based on aesthetics. i mean, literally everything we see is digested and analyzed and then we react to it based entirely on the unique way we’ve developed as a human. how is that not incredible.”

 

he inhales, studies the details of jiyong’s features, enamored. seunghyun had an intelligent comment forming on his tongue, really he did, but it gets obliterated by the stretch and pull of those lips.

 

“what?” jiyong asks, and when he flicks his eyes up he finds he’s being squinted at.

 

arm looping around jiyong further, seunghyun nicks the cigarette and stubs it out, wondering if all of this was inevitable or if he’s making a mistake by letting himself be _influenced_ by the boy’s aesthetics. mental and physical. because he likes jiyong a lot, yeah. but he has a habit of screwing things up when it becomes too much.

 

“would it be awkward if i kissed you right now?” seunghyun almost mumbles, focus drifting to jiyong’s mouth.

 

he watches nice teeth sink into that plump bottom lip, watches it slip free, skin slick.

 

“no,” jiyong breathes.

 

his hand glides along seunghyun’s lower back to hook around his waist. seunghyun cups jiyong’s cheek and strokes his thumb over the blush spreading there.

 

“are you sure? all these people--”

 

except he’s cut off, jiyong beating him to it--kiss hard but sweet. he feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

 

somewhere in the background, ryan whistles. seunghyun chooses not to hear anything else above his stuttering heart, the tips of his fingers easing into jiyong’s hair. a broad smile presses against his mouth. it’s softer than it looks.

  
  
  


iii. fat bass beats pound up from the floor and through his body, music swelling around him and inside of him. seunghyun’s eyes are closed, but he can sense the heat of other bodies in all directions as he moves. as his blood pumps thick in his veins, pulse elevated, sweat soaking through his clothes. dripping down his face, his neck, the small of his back. chaerin shouts to his right, but the sound is distorted, and the world seems over-bright when he eventually forces his eyelids open.

 

“i think we’re gonna go,” she shouts again.

 

seunghyun frowns. “it’s still early.”

 

pushing closer, chaerin wedges in beside him, hand on his arm.

 

“we’re not kids anymore. i’m too old for this shit.”

 

he laughs. because that’s rich, coming from her.

 

“then what does that make me, a dinosaur?” he shouts.

 

“yeah, gramps. soon you’ll be in a museum,” chaerin retorts, her wry tone plenty clear just in the sharpness of her gaze.

 

the lights dance across the room, illuminating her amused face and then casting it in shadow. seunghyun offers a thin smile and shakes his head. if he didn’t love her so much, he might actually be offended.

 

jiyong reappears then, worming through the crowd to get to them. he doesn’t hesitate to latch onto him--to curl around him from behind, holding him tight.

 

“are you abandoning me, too?” seunghyun asks, lips brushing his ear.

 

“not a chance,” jiyong shouts back.

 

lifting his head, he catches chaerin’s disapproving look before it transforms quickly into a brilliant smile and she makes her goodbyes. it’s not something he’s a stranger to. her quiet disapproval. seunghyun pecks chaerin on the forehead and doesn’t miss the way her eyes go tender when she smiles at the boy in his arms.

 

“get home safe.” jiyong squeezes her hands, lets them drop.

 

“see you tomorrow, ji,” chaerin calls, taking a step in reverse, smirking. “don’t let this loser keep you out too late.”

 

seunghyun feels jiyong’s laughter vibrate against him and he flips her off as she disappears into the masses. the music builds. he begins rocking them from side to side in time with the beat. jiyong curls his fingers around seunghyun’s forearm and lets his head loll onto his shoulder, grin like sunlight even in the dark.

 

it never requires much for him to get lost in what jiyong is. and what he is, is too good for seunghyun. it’s exactly what was going through chaerin’s mind. it’s exactly what goes through his own mind most days. but whenever he thinks he’s convinced himself it’s better to walk away, he can’t. because jiyong is a melody he hasn’t heard before and now he doesn’t want to listen to anything else.

 

so he just lives whatever this is. embodies what he is in this moment. smiling. something approaching happy.

 

seunghyun brings his mouth to jiyong’s neck, trails kisses up along his jaw--his chin, his cheek, and then his lips when jiyong turns his head. the beat changes. slows down. he slides one hand lower to lay flat over jiyong’s stomach and they move together, hips rolling. breath coming in heavier bursts. seunghyun’s fingers clench thin fabric and jiyong grabs his hand, guiding it underneath, holding him there against the warmth of his skin.

 

their kiss devolves. a moan resonates in his palm and his mouth. in everything.

 

“come home with me,” jiyong gasps.

 

seunghyun noses into damp red hair. “okay,” he answers, want severe enough that he can’t come up with a more articulate response.

 

but they don’t need articulate, do they.

 

the journey to his apartment is a blur. it’s dark when they get there and stumble past furniture to duck into jiyong’s room, hands a flurry of movement, laughter too loud. seunghyun unwraps him eagerly and tries to calm the racing in his chest once they’re both tangled on the bed. he learns jiyong is soft everywhere. soft sighs, fluid motion, sweet and shy even in this. it’s no wonder that seunghyun feels out of depth and he uses those lovely brown eyes to anchor himself when he falls.

  
  


~

  
  


lying awake a few hours later, sky lightening behind the blinds, he panics. because seunghyun’s no whiz when it involves the steps that follow this one--rarely ever gets there in the first place. he’s more no-strings. jiyong comes with plenty and it freaks him out that he ever contemplated getting twisted up in them.

 

seunghyun peers over at the sleeping boy, knows he’s a creep for watching. but jiyong is at his softest here, if possible. he reaches out and delicately sweeps a loose strand of red behind his ear. jiyong stirs. it takes him three minutes to get dressed.

 

“not staying for coffee?” a feminine voice scares him shitless as he’s padding into the living room.

 

he finds the source in jiyong’s older sister, dami. his heart feels like it’s not even in his body anymore and he exhales roughly.

 

“um, hi,” seunghyun utters, still frozen.

 

she sips from the ceramic mug in her hands, doesn’t spare him a glance.

 

“hello, mysterious boy sneaking out of my brother’s room at five-thirty in the morning.”

 

the dryness of her tone tells him exactly what kind of land-mine he just set off. seunghyun fumbles for a way not to make it worse. “i have work. that’s why i’m…”

 

but dami is sharp and quick on the draw, eyes slanting from the newspaper on the table to regard him intently.

 

“tip-toeing through the apartment so he doesn’t know you’ve left?” she offers.

 

“yeah,” he admits reluctantly.

 

“thought so.” dami sighs, one eyebrow ticking upwards. “any information you’d like me to pass on until you have the balls to say it to his face?”

 

seunghyun can’t not wince at that, arms crossing loosely over his chest. it’s like he’s on trial. he probably should be.

 

“just that i’ll call him later.”

 

“consider it done,” she says, sounding bored. or disappointed. or both.

 

dami returns to her paper without another word and he slinks out into the hallway, proverbial tail between his legs. seunghyun hovers on the landing, not sure why he’s so shaken up. the hall is oddly noiseless. placid. he doesn’t move until the weight he knows is guilt drags him down the stairs.

  
  
  


iv. doing what he does best, seunghyun feigns being too busy to hang out with jiyong. it’s not total bullshit. they have a bunch of gigs lined up and he’s got shifts every day at the coffee shop. what surprises him, is that jiyong takes all of his excuses at face value. usually when seunghyun is a coward or an asshole, he never hears the end of it, bombarded daily by the people who think he owes them something. an apology. promises he’ll never keep. his heart. jiyong doesn’t make demands. and seunghyun feels like he’s cemented his title as scum of the earth with every text he never responds to.

 

it’s not that he doesn’t like jiyong anymore. quite the opposite. it’s that he knows what’ll happen if he keeps barreling onward and he’s afraid. afraid of the way he scans the sea of heads in every bar and club and hopes he’ll see soft red. afraid of the urge he gets to text jiyong at all hours of the day. not even to say anything specific. just to make contact. to feel connected. to know that he knows he’s being thought of.

 

afraid of how easy it is to miss him after only two weeks of running. deflecting. being an emotionally stunted piece of shit.

 

he’s not alone in that sentiment, either, and he knows he’s in for it when chaerin comes stalking into the cafe--a tiny, blonde hurricane.

 

“outside. now.”

 

seunghyun glances up from the clipboard in his hands. inventory isn’t his favorite thing, but it’s definitely less agonizing than what’s about to happen.

 

“are you here to lecture me again?” he asks.

 

chaerin narrows her eyes. “don’t start.”

 

“mal, i’ll be right back,” seunghyun sighs. “probably not in one piece though, you may need a wheelbarrow.”

 

snorting, mallory gives him a lazy salute, and he rounds the counter. walks past chaerin. she huffs and storms after him and he can barely get his cigarette lit before she goes off like a roman candle.

 

“what the fuck are you doing?”

 

seunghyun’s eyebrows raise. “my job?”

 

“don’t be a smart ass,” chaerin nearly growls, arms crossed so tight it seems painful. “you know why i’m here.”

 

“yeah. so get on with it,” he mutters.

 

she starts pacing. seunghyun stares at the ground and inhales smoke into his lungs, watching it cloud the space between their feet as he breathes out. her voice is a little less hard when she speaks again.

 

“i have no idea why you think it’s okay to fuck with other people, but jiyong isn’t one of your groupies.”

 

“my--” stunned laughter tumbles from his mouth and then he leans back against the wall of the building. the brightness of the sun hurts his eyes. he closes them.

 

“why don’t i let _him_ decide what he wants from me, if he even wants anything else than what we have going on right now, and we can figure it out from there.”

 

“there won’t _be_ anything to figure out if you don’t pull your head out of your fucking ass.”

 

seunghyun lifts the cigarette to his lips and cracks his eyes open. chaerin’s expression keeps fluctuating from angry to sad, her steps slowing until she stops.

 

“it’s not like i hurt people on purpose, chae,” he murmurs.

 

she looks up, pins him to the spot as she sways forward.

 

“but you still hurt them.”

 

his breath catches and he averts his gaze, lips twisting in a pained smile, because she’s certainly not wrong. the guilt settles a bit heavier behind his ribs. seunghyun takes another drag.

 

“are you gonna lay down some sage advice or did you really just come to chew me out?” he asks, slouching further against the wall. “because your batting average isn’t exactly any better.”

 

chaerin’s everything sort of deflates at that, her arms falling to her sides and the sadness winning out over the anger. then she invades his space until he can’t avoid her and suddenly this is a lot harder to deal with now that he can see her own hurt close up.

 

resting her hands on seunghyun’s chest, chaerin sinks into him. “y’know, for once i wish you’d drop this bullshit act and be real with me like you used to,” she almost whispers. “and if not me, then i think jiyong deserves the courtesy before you screw him over.”

 

seunghyun wants to laugh, but he can’t. not at her. at himself for being just as pathetic as he always believed he was. flicking the cigarette into the street, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her in all the way, chin resting on top of her head.

 

“i’m sorry,” he says. and he means it.

 

she doesn’t answer, though she does hug him closer. seunghyun accepts it for what it is and they stay there like that for a while, lost in thought. lost in how things were. he doesn’t remember changing so much, but that’s what friends are for, aren’t they.

 

“seunghyun, why do you do this to yourself?” chaerin asks eventually, mumbling into his shoulder.

 

he releases a careful breath, feels his throat go tight.

 

“i dunno.”

 

he thinks it doesn’t get any more real than that.

  
  
  


v. daesung knows something’s up when he finds seunghyun sitting on their couch reading a book one saturday night after a show. seunghyun can tell, because his roommate has been standing in the doorway dripping water onto the floor for the last thirty seconds, speechless.

 

he turns the page. “i am literate. i know that’s easy to forget.”

 

daesung chuckles, slicking his mop of wet hair back and sending more droplets flying. “aren’t you coming to chaerin’s?” he asks, propping himself up on the doorframe.

 

seunghyun meets his gaze from across the room.

 

“nope.”

 

“i’m confused.”

 

“join the club,” he drawls.

 

“did you guys piss each other off or something?”

 

“she’s not why i’m staying home,” seunghyun clarifies, offering a slight smile. “i just needed some perspective.”

 

“right.” daesung nods. then his brows furrow. “are you...are you okay?”

 

“working on it, man.”

 

“because you seemed a little out of it, on stage earlier,” daesung adds, concern shining in his warm eyes.

 

he forces a wider smile and hopes it passes inspection. “i’m fine. really. go have fun.”

 

his friend’s responding grin is as goofy as ever, warm eyes disappearing with the force of it. daesung gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up and wanders into the kitchen. seunghyun keeps his gaze lowered, staring at the page but not absorbing any of it, and doesn’t lift his head again until he hears the front door click shut.

 

a long sigh leaks out of his mouth. with the apartment silent and empty save for himself, he feels his solitude more acutely. feels the space around him and his smallness in comparison. he can’t remember the last time he consciously chose to be alone. there was always another party, another bar, another bed to occupy for a short while before repeating the process over and over. seunghyun is pretty sure that at twenty-eight, he should’ve outgrown this shit already. but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t know how else to be. which is sort of depressing.

 

 _forever a joke_.

 

he sighs again, frowning at his hands. he has all these signs telling him to change. to grow up. to stop avoiding the world. seunghyun wonders if he’d even be here on this couch right now if it wasn’t for jiyong. if he’d still be stuck in a loop. wasting his life.

 

it would be incredibly easy to let himself fall into a slump, but he doesn’t. he refuses to feel sorry for himself beyond this one moment in time, because that’s a dead-end and seunghyun has been close enough to it in the past to know he doesn’t want that to become his reality.

 

instead, he relaxes against the cushions and stares blankly at the ceiling and remembers the way jiyong had looked on the dancefloor--uninhibited, mesmerizing, bathed in light and color. like he’d stepped out of a dream.

  
  
  


vi. three days is how long it takes for seunghyun to muster the courage he needs to face jiyong. because it requires a certain brand of recklessness to make a decision like this and put everything he’s got down on the table. not that he has any expectations on either side. seunghyun just knows that this is right, despite how terrifying it is. and he almost psyches himself out in the elevator on his way to jiyong and chaerin’s office.

 

the metal doors slide open. seunghyun walks into the hall at the last minute and doesn’t even stop at the reception desk, because if he does he might choke. it doesn’t matter that he has no idea where jiyong is. all he has to do is search for soft red.

 

of course, when he finds it--jiyong hunched over a table scattered with countless papers, cheek squished against his palm--chaerin spots him from the opposite end of the sprawling loft space.

 

she smiles, limbs animated as she makes an encouraging gesture. seunghyun swallows and closes the remaining distance.

 

“hey.”

 

pretty brown eyes go wide when they collide with his. he gets lost there for a moment, because he forgot how intense it was to be in jiyong’s presence. but the pause extends and he fidgets. doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

 

“seunghyun…” jiyong murmurs eventually, blinking and breaking the spell. “what are you doing here?”

 

“i, um, i wanted to talk,” he answers.

 

leaning back in his chair, jiyong’s smile grows and then fades, gaze focused somewhere on his desk.

 

“i hardly see you for three weeks and now you wanna talk.”

 

seunghyun inches forward, curling his arms around himself. “please,” he begs quietly. “it’s important.”

 

jiyong peers up at him, searching his face, his eyes. he’s not sure what he finds, but the stiffness in his posture weakens and he nods, rising to stand.

 

they migrate into the hall, jiyong hitting the button for the elevator. seunghyun doesn’t know where they’re going. he supposes it doesn’t matter. he just wishes jiyong would look at him again.

 

“how are you?” seunghyun asks once the elevator starts moving.

 

“all right,” jiyong murmurs, glance brief but he’ll take it. “you?”

 

he huffs out a short laugh and moves to hold the door open when they hit the foyer.

 

“nervous.”

 

this seems to catch jiyong off-guard, attention lingering for a pronounced beat before he blushes, exiting the elevator and pushing his way outside. seunghyun’s heart pounds in his throat as they walk. the sky is washed out with too-bright sun, downtown traffic loud and distracting. jiyong leads him to a park a few blocks away, sits on a bench without preamble, lighting a cigarette.

 

he sits beside him, two inches of space between their legs. jiyong offers seunghyun his pack and for the next five minutes they exist together without words. just smoke and sunshine littering the path at their feet.

 

but once the cigarettes burn down to the filters, he knows he can’t stop time anymore.

 

“i’ve thought a lot about what i was gonna say to you, but i can’t remember anymore,” seunghyun admits, laughing a bit desperately now. “because just looking at you is hard.”

 

jiyong crosses his legs and leans over, chin in his hand. there’s a shy half smile tugging at his lips. “why is it hard?”

 

seunghyun breathes.

 

“because i’m sorry. for stringing you along, for not being honest with you from the beginning.” he pauses, releases another heavy exhale. “i am not the most put together guy in the world.”

 

“i’m not asking you to be. but an explanation would be nice,” jiyong replies.

 

swiping unsteady fingers over his face, he thinks about the simplest way to express himself, turning to look at jiyong directly. a breeze rustles the tree leaves, soft red falls into softer brown. his stomach clenches but he doesn’t lose his nerve.

 

“you scare me.”

 

jiyong’s eyebrows fly up at that and he grins, this adorably high-pitched laugh rocketing out of his mouth. “me. i scare you,” he states, baffled.

 

“yeah.” seunghyun nods. “in the biggest way. i don’t--” he cuts off, wanting to laugh again. “i really don’t even know how to explain, i--”

 

“it’s okay,” jiyong interrupts, one of his hands reaching over to clasp seunghyun’s as he shifts closer, their knees pressing together. “just talk to me. it doesn’t have to be perfect, i won’t think any less of you.”

 

he snorts, gnawing on his lip. seunghyun’s fingers twitch and he threads them into jiyong’s, taking a moment to appreciate how familiar it feels, smiling when jiyong’s thumb strokes the back of his hand. but his smile wilts when he realizes what he’s about to say.

 

seunghyun has never done this. and when he bravely lifts his eyes to stare into jiyong’s, finding light and sincerity, he remembers why.

 

“i’m shit at relationships,” seunghyun begins, a knot forming between his brows. “i’m shit at having feelings. you scare me because when i look at you, i know how close i am to falling in love with you and when that happens, i always fuck it up. you don’t deserve fucked up. you don’t deserve to be hurt and i will hurt you if you let me love you.”

 

the shakiest sigh leaves him, the firm hold on his hand the only sign that this isn’t going horribly wrong. which is a first.

 

jiyong squeezes his fingers, voice gentle when he speaks. “how can you know that?”

 

“because i always do,” he almost whispers.

 

offering another squeeze, jiyong’s head lowers, and he curls his other hand around seunghyun’s, rubbing at the peaks of his knuckles.

 

“you seem so convinced that you’re a bad person. but i don’t think that’s true.”

 

seunghyun leans into him. “we don’t know each other that well yet.”

 

“i want to. i really, really do,” jiyong insists, head lifting, expression serious. determined.

 

“even after i fucked you and ran away?” he asks.

 

“we don’t owe each other anything, seunghyun. i asked you to come home with me, i didn’t ask you to move in,” jiyong replies calmly.

 

the sun ducks behind passing clouds, reappearing twice as bright, and he has to close his eyes for a second to block out the glare. also to get a grip on himself. because he’s still afraid of this. of how certain jiyong’s hold is. seunghyun slides his fingers against tattooed ones and inhales slowly.

 

“so where does that leave us?”

 

“trying again?” jiyong proposes.

 

he stares, a little dumbfounded. “you really mean that.”

 

jiyong’s lips curve upwards. blatant affection writes itself in the lines on his face.

 

“i honestly like you a lot.”

 

seunghyun scoffs. “god knows why,” he mutters wryly. and jiyong just laughs.

  
  
  


vii. their apartment isn’t really big enough for parties, instruments and amps and bicycles and shelf after shelf of music inhabiting more of the space than they do. it never stops them from trying, though, and seunghyun savors the kinetic energy of a living room packed with people he likes. not anonymous bodies because he doesn’t want to be alone.

 

squeezing through the hall, two drinks in hand, he returns to his spot next to jiyong. a thin arm loops around his waist automatically, making him smile. he listens to his friends argue about things he doesn’t understand and he wonders why it took him so long to get here.

 

“seunghyun!” daesung shouts from somewhere near the stereo. “can i play the demo?”

 

“sure, why not,” he returns.

 

the music already playing ends abruptly and jiyong looks at him, curious.

 

“you guys recorded something?”

 

seunghyun shrugs. “it’s nothing special. charlie wants to try again next week.”

 

his scratchy guitar filters through the speakers, dae’s bass drum kicking in a moment later, followed by charlie’s low voice. it’s weird, hearing it like this. having it fill the room and swell in his ears and not be on some dingy bar stage. he tries not to think about the parts he messed up and drinks from his glass.

 

“i like it,” jiyong says, pulling him closer.

 

he smiles again, lets his arm drape over jiyong’s shoulders. “yeah?”

 

“yeah.”

 

seunghyun’s gaze sweeps the living room, noting all the bobbing heads, and feels his heart stumble excitedly. he watches daesung throw his hands in the air as he dances--watches chaerin jump up on their shitty coffee table with ryan, beaming while she sings along.

 

“hey, you break it, you buy it,” he calls to them.

 

she sticks her tongue out, giving him the finger, and he rolls his eyes. but his cheeks hurt, because some things will never change, and he thinks that’s all right.

 

seunghyun sighs, turning to press his face into soft hair. “will you stay tonight?” he asks.

 

jiyong leans back and grins, moving to stand in front of him. he arches an eyebrow. “i dunno, are you gonna be there when i wake up?”

 

laughing, he tugs jiyong in until he can’t go any further. “yes,” seunghyun chuckles.

 

“okay,” jiyong answers.

 

foreheads locked together, seunghyun gently rocks them from side to side in time with the music. jiyong giggles. their mouths tease. he kisses jiyong quiet and ignores the howling he knows is ryan. because it’s really overwhelming when you start to let yourself love someone. and seunghyun may always be afraid, but at least he’s running towards something instead of away. something good. real. something worth the fear.

 

 


End file.
